


Caretaker

by theramblinrose



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Early MSR, F/M, MSR, Rating will probably change, after "End Game", but can be read separately, in my universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24953566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theramblinrose/pseuds/theramblinrose
Summary: MSR.  Mulder’s been through a lot—losing Samantha, nearly losing Scully, and nearly losing even his own life in Alaska.  He needs someone to take care of him, and Scully’s more than happy to step into that role.  Naturally, she’s pleased to discover that love and affection is always reciprocal with Mulder.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

AN: This is the start of this piece. It will mostly be relationship development/”loving”/ etc. I would expect the rating to change. 

This follows the episode “End game” and belongs in my universe (after “Restored”), but is also written so that I believe you can read it individually. 

I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think! 

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“Go straight to bed, Mulder,” Dana Scully said the moment that they’d walked through the door to her apartment.

Fox Mulder smiled at her.

“I know some men find it intimidating, but I want you to know, Scully, that I like when you take control,” Mulder teased.

Scully rolled her eyes at him, openly, but she gave him the smile he was seeking, as well. He had no genuine interest in protesting her order to go to bed, so he did as she asked. 

They’d just gotten back from Alaska, and the trip had been entirely unplanned, which meant that neither of them had luggage to bring in or even a single thing to unpack. Mulder had eaten what meagre food the remote hospital had offered him in his pre-release meal, and he’d eaten the meal they’d served him the night before. Scully had fibbed a little and told him that she’d grabbed a snack here or there when she’d mostly subsisted on water out of the water fountain in light of the fact that the small and barely functioning facility had no cafeteria for anyone except staff. Those that were using the almost pop-up health facility in such a remote location, most of the time, wouldn’t have visitors.

In the whirlwind of a few days, Mulder had been through the emotional wringer. He’d been looking for his sister, Samantha, for twenty-two years. The desire to find out the truth of what had happened to Samantha and, hopefully, to bring her home again, had been a driving force throughout Mulder’s life and career. 

A few days ago, Mulder thought he’d found her. She returned—showed up at his parents’ home. She brought a story about aliens and alien bounty hunters, and she brought a great deal of chaos to both Mulder and Scully’s lives. Because of her, Scully had been beaten up by something she still couldn’t explain, and she’d been held hostage. Mulder had traded Samantha for Scully, intending to let a sniper take out the kidnapper, but Samantha had ruined that by trying to take some kind of justice of her own, and she’d gone into the river with the kidnapper.

It wasn’t until the body surfaced that Scully had discovered that Samantha wasn’t Samantha at all. The gnawing pit of uneasiness that the discovery left in Scully’s stomach made her hesitant to try to identify who or what the person they’d believed to be Samantha actually was. 

Mulder had found out more, as well, when he’d gone on some wild goose chase that had taken him to Alaska—where Scully had found him and saved his life in the remote hospital, thanks to her discoveries about a particular retrovirus that was present in the green body fluid that seemed to surround every entity involved in the whole mystery.

Mulder was mostly recovered from the worst symptoms of the strange illness that had overcome him, but he still required some rest and recovery time to be back to full capacity. 

Scully had listened to what Mulder had to say about his discoveries during the case, and she knew that it was all easily explained for him. Aliens.

For Scully, it wasn’t so easily explained. She was very reluctant to use the A word that Mulder had leaned into so easily. Instead, she chose for herself one word that made her feel at least a little better. Unknown.

It was vague, but at least it left her feeling like a rational explanation could, someday, be found.

For now, Scully felt like there were two words that she and Mulder could probably agree upon: food and sleep. 

It didn’t take too long to prepare the simple meal of soup and sandwiches. Scully carried Mulder’s food into the bedroom first. He was napping in the bed, and she quietly sat the bowl and plate down before she rummaged in the closet to find the trays that had been stored there. 

It wasn’t that long ago that she’d been recovering from head trauma she suffered during a kidnapping and disappearance. Mulder had cared for her diligently during her recovery. The trays were a reminder of that time period—a purchase that Mulder had made when he’d set about making everything in her apartment comfortable for her. That had been the time when Mulder and Scully’s relationship had moved from a business partnership to a partnership in every sense of the word. 

Since Scully’s recovery, the trays mostly came out for evenings when dinner in bed sounded like a good idea. Tonight, lounging in the bed while consuming a meal sounded like a great idea.

“Mulder,” Scully said softly, not wanting to startle him. “Mulder—wake up. You need to sit up enough to eat. You don’t want to spill soup in the bed.” 

Mulder stirred. He looked exhausted. He’d been hiding the way he felt, but now that he was safely in Scully’s apartment and comfortably tucked into her bed, he wasn’t hiding his fatigue any longer. Scully smiled softly to herself at the sleepy expression on his features. He smiled sleepily in response, but he did move to allow Scully to rest the tray across his lap. She put the dishes on the tray and leaned over, brushing her lips across his forehead. His skin was chapped and dry—a result of exposure to the cold in Alaska—but he was lucky that he wasn’t suffering from frostbite that was truly severe.

“I’ll bring you something to drink,” Scully said.

Mulder caught her hand as she started to walk away and she stopped. He worked her hand in his and held her eyes a moment. He looked so tired—and so profoundly sad. The expression tugged at something inside Scully just as if she’d had a pull string running directly to her core and Mulder had control of it.

“What’s wrong, Mulder?” Scully asked. He somewhat shook his head, and she understood what he was trying to say with the simple gesture. Where could he even begin? He chose a place, though, to start.

“You haven’t eaten, Scully,” he said. “You have to eat. The alien has to eat.” 

Scully smiled to herself and squeezed Mulder’s hand. The only alien they could both agree on wasn’t an alien at all. Mulder had affectionately given their baby the nickname of “alien” the very first time he’d seen the embryo on a sonogram. The name had stuck and, at eight weeks pregnant, Scully and Mulder still referred to it as their alien. 

“I’ll bring mine once I’ve got you settled,” Scully assured him. “Don’t worry, Mulder. The alien’s fine. We’re all fine.” 

Mulder squeezed her hand once more and released it. Scully slipped out of the bedroom, leaving only long enough to make two quick trips with the rest of their needs for the meal. 

Once they were both settled in with everything they might need for at least a short while, Scully toed off her shoes and settled into bed with a groan. Mulder balanced her tray until she was comfortable, and then he passed it over to her. 

“Do you want to—talk about it?” Scully asked. 

“Which part?” Mulder asked.

“At this point, Mulder, I’m willing to indulge you. Which part do you want to talk about?” 

“It was never her, Scully,” Mulder said.

Scully felt that sharp pang in her gut—the twisting sensation of compassion. She hurt because he hurt. It was stronger than even simple compassion.

“I know. And, Mulder? I’m so sorry. I know you thought that—you’d found Samantha and it was all over. The search for her was over.” 

“They were clones,” Mulder said. “But they said they knew where she was. They confirmed that they knew—where she is.” 

“Or they were lying to you about the whole thing,” Scully said. “It’s difficult to know how much to believe when you already know that you were being lied to and manipulated.”

This part they had hashed and rehashed in whispered tones on the plane; each of them figuring out what to include in their reports when they finally had the chance to write them after a rest. This was the one part of the whole case that they’d really discussed in detail—the clones, the kidnapper the clones had claimed was a bounty hunter, and the retrovirus that had been present in the strange green bodily fluid. Aliens for Mulder. Unknown for Scully.

“She’s out there,” Mulder said. “I’m going to find her.”

“You are,” Scully assured him. “You absolutely are.”

“You really believe that, Scully?” Mulder asked.

Scully smiled to herself at the rise in his tone. He needed her to believe with him, and she needed to believe for him. 

“I do,” she said. “I don’t know when or—how, Mulder. But I know you’re going to find Samantha.”

“I love you,” Mulder said quickly. She could hear his sincerity in the words, not that she’d ever doubted his feelings for her since the first time he’d shared them with her.

“I know,” Scully said. “And I love you, too. Eat your dinner, Mulder.” 

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Along with the meals that Scully had missed at the practical pop-up hospital, she’d missed any kind of “spa treatment” that Mulder might have gotten in the way of baths and care for his skin. As soon as they’d eaten dinner, Scully had tucked Mulder in to sleep with a kiss, cleaned up the dishes and the kitchen, and then she’d stepped into the shower to let the warm water relax her muscles and wash away the past few days. 

She took her time shampooing her hair, washing her body, and shaving. When she was finally content that she was as clean as she could be, and everything from the past few days had been washed down the drain as thoroughly as possible, she stepped out of the shower and dried off entirely. She hung the towel back up to dry, ran a comb lazily through her hair to simply rid it of the tangles, and brushed her teeth.

Mulder was exhausted. 

And so was Scully.

Scully padded into the bedroom and carefully opened the drawer with her underwear. She stepped into a pair before closing the drawer and opening the one to her nightwear. She pulled out the light gown that she intended to wear and threaded her arms through the holes. As she moved to slip it over her head, she heard Mulder cough quietly.

“Leave it?” He said. Scully looked at him over her shoulder as soon as the gown dropped over her head. “Come to bed without it?” 

Scully felt her face run warm. She was learning that it didn’t matter how many times she was with Mulder, each time felt oddly exhilarating—like the first time just kept happening again and again. She smiled to herself and let the gown fall the rest of the way down before she pushed the drawer closed. Mulder didn’t protest. As she walked toward the bed, he rolled to face her. He held an arm out as an invitation to her to join him where she was already headed.

“You need to sleep, Mulder,” Scully said, climbing onto the bed on her knees. Mulder reached for her and she allowed herself to be somewhat pulled to his claimed side of the bed. She leaned and kissed him gently. When she started to pull away, his hand caught the back of her head to beg her, silently, for more. She could feel his hunger. She indulged him, running her tongue against his lower lip, and he opened his mouth to her to tease her with his own tongue. 

Scully pulled away when her body reacted with the hopeful request for more than just Mulder’s tongue—or, at the very least, for his tongue to tease her in more locations than simply her mouth.

Mulder followed her as she pulled away, and Scully laughed quietly to herself at his pursuit.

“You really should rest,” Scully said. “After everything you’ve been through and the treatment…”

He rested on his elbow and stared at her with eyes that looked like he found them painful to even keep open. 

“I thought I was going to lose you on that bridge,” he said. “I knew it was me—I knew he looked like me—when he attacked you, and I couldn’t get that out of my mind. He’d hurt you, but you’d saw me do it.” 

“I knew it wasn’t you,” Scully assured him. “I told you that. By the time he was attacking me, I knew it wasn’t you.” 

He rubbed her face with his hand. He was giving her the puppy dog eyes that she could barely resist.

“He had a gun to your head, Scully,” Mulder said. 

“I remember. I was there.” 

“I thought I was going to lose you,” Mulder said. 

Scully nodded her head. She knew they weren’t done talking about this. This would come up again. Feelings like that didn’t just evaporate. They took their sweet time being worked out.

“You didn’t lose me,” Scully said. She smiled at him. “Besides—you’re the one that left me.”

“It was dangerous,” Mulder said. “I couldn’t put you in any more danger…”

Scully hushed him. 

“I’m not mad,” she assured him. “I don’t like being ditched, though. You should know that.”

“I just wanted you to stay safe.”

“I know. I’m safe. But—Mulder? I was terrified of losing you. First, I didn’t know where you were and then, I didn’t know if you would live…”

He smiled softly. It was that crooked little smile that could be infuriating and endearing all at once.

“You were really scared to lose me, huh, Scully?” 

“Mulder, you know I was.” Scully checked her tone. There was something in Mulder that needed to be needed. That same something, she supposed, needed her to be scared to lose him. It wasn’t that he wanted her afraid, really, but her fear was proof of her love. Mulder liked to be reassured of her love. 

His teasing was nothing more than the masked request for reassurance and reiteration of her love.

Bearing that in mind, Scully leaned toward him and, holding his face with her hand, she kissed him again, nibbling his lip as she pulled away.

“I don’t like it when you leave me, Mulder,” Scully offered. 

“I didn’t leave you,” Mulder assured her. “I was coming back.”

“I love you,” Scully said. 

Mulder caught her lips again. He bumped her face with his, probably a great deal harder than he meant to. He was tired enough to have the coordination of a drunk man.

“Come over here, Scully. Let me show you how much I love you. You’ve taken good care of me. Let me take care of you for a little while.”

Scully licked her lips and kissed him again, softly this time. Gently. He looked at her with heavy eyelids.

“I’ve got a better idea,” she said. 

“Better?” He asked.

“Why don’t you—hold me, tonight? While we sleep. And in the morning, I can take care of you some more.” 

“What about you?” Mulder asked. Since he wasn’t arguing, really, Scully rolled over and worked her way under the cover. He helped her, and she backed up against him, making it clear to him that she expected him to hold her. He obliged, spooning her and resting his leg over her hip to hold her as close as he could. 

“Oh,” she breathed out, “I’m pretty sure I’ll think of a way that we can both benefit.” 

Mulder kissed the back of her neck, and then the side of her neck. Scully hummed her approval for the gentle affection and the welcomed comfort of having him so close to her. He wrapped his arm around her and she threaded her fingers through his, bringing his hand up to kiss it. As soon as she had, he pulled both their hands down, and rested his hand on Scully’s abdomen. She smiled to herself, her fingers resting gently over his. Mulder flexed his fingers, rubbing them back and forth over the nightgown that covered her.

“This OK?” He asked, his mouth resting close to her ear as he fully settled into his place.

Scully sighed and closed her eyes.

“Mulder—this is absolutely perfect.” 

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AN: This one is going to be a little self-indulgent loving and bonding between Mulder and Scully (which is, in the context of my universe, very important for a couple with a healthy relationship, right? LOL). I expect the rating to change for the next part. You can, perhaps, expect some character development and a some emotional/physical “loving,” but I’m not promising any crazy plot “action” here. That’s not what this little piece is about. 

At any rate, I hope you enjoyed the first part! 

If you’re new to my stories, I’m still fairly new to The X-Files and the fandom. I have a few stories that can all be read separately, or they can be read as all belonging to the same universe. I may, later, write a few stories that go in between the ones I’ve already written, but here are the current ones in their current chronological order. (I’m considering going back and inserting a “first time” fic for them at some point, if anyone’s interested.)

“A Light in the Darkness,” “Stay, “The Cross,” “Aubrey,” “Irresistible,” “The Lake House,” “The Holinshed Ghost, "Devotion,” and “Restored.” 

I’m also writing one that’s not related, at all, to this universe. It’s called “Patchwork,” and it takes Mulder and Scully into the zombie apocalypse. If you’re interested in that one, check it out! 

Thanks so much for reading! Please don’t forget to let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Here we are. I warned you that the rating was likely to change. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Mulder slept better than he could remember sleeping in a long time. Some of it was the relief of knowing that everything with Samantha—though still not solved, really—was no worse than it had been before. She was missing, but he felt renewed hope that she would be found. The greatest part of the relief, though, was knowing that Scully was fine. Forever burned into his mind, probably, was the image of that bounty hunter with a gun to Scully’s temple, but it had ended in their favor. Not only was Scully fine, but she’d spent the night sleeping next to Mulder—some of it, she’d even spent wrapped in his arms. Mulder always slept better when she was beside him.

As he swam slowly upward out of the heavy cover of sleep and came closer to consciousness, Mulder began to take in the sensations around him—the comfort of the bed, the sweet surrounding scent of Scully…and something else entirely.

He opened his eyes to see her, the corners of her mouth crooked as she smiled at him, her eyes full of a particular kind of mischief, as she ran her tongue teasingly over and around his tip. Mulder felt a ripple of pleasure run through him as she took him into her mouth, no longer teasing. 

For a moment, Mulder swam in the wave of warm and perfect pleasure that crashed over him. He found himself grabbing for the sheets—looking for something to hold onto like he might fall right off the face of the Earth. When his brain had a small break in the pleasure, it offered him another thought—a different one entirely. It offered him past memories of times when Scully had done this without quite as much finesse as she now possessed. 

Mulder laughed to himself at the thoughts that rushed into his mind before pleasure could push them back out again. 

“If you’re going to laugh at me while I do this, I might just stop,” Scully said, doing just what she’d threatened to do, at least temporarily. She looked annoyed, but the extra dark rush of pink to her cheeks told Mulder that she was embarrassed.

“I was just—thinking about the very first time you tried this,” Mulder said. 

“I apologized,” Scully said.

“You did,” Mulder ceded. “And there was no permanent harm done. I was just thinking that your technique has improved immensely, Scully.” 

“Then lie back. Relax, Mulder. Focus on enjoying it.”

Scully returned to her work, but Mulder couldn’t help but find that he was still distracted. One of the problems was that—no matter how damn wonderful it felt to know that Dana Scully was willing to pleasure him in such a way, he’d almost rather just watch her than focus on what his body was feeling. 

“Are we on a schedule, Scully?” Mulder asked when Scully sighed and sped up, clearly trying to move him from one point to another in record time. “Because, I never rush you, but I have to admit that I’m feeling a little rushed.”

Scully stopped again. She stroked him lazily with her hand and he closed his eyes for a split second to the new sensation and the continued slow wave of pleasure that was flowing over him and puddling around him. 

“I’m sorry. But…considering I feel like I might be sick—yeah,” Scully said. Her expression and the way she swallowed made it immediately clear that she was fighting something back, even if that something was only a desire or a sensation.

Mulder laughed to himself. 

“I have to give you credit, Scully. Hands down, that’s the sexiest thing a woman has ever told me while she was giving me a blow job.” 

Scully made a face as she swallowed, again, in rapid succession. She blew out her breath and sat up a little. 

“Does it make it sexier if—if I say it’s your baby that’s doing this to me?” 

Mulder smiled to himself.

“It makes it infinitely sexier,” Mulder offered. 

Scully opened her mouth like she might say something in response, but barely more than a sound escaped—a sound without any meaning at all, before she broke off.

“Scully, if you need permission,” Mulder offered, seeing her blanch. She was sweating a little, and he was almost certain that it wasn’t from exertion, “then I’m giving it to you. If you need to go—just go.”

For a moment, Scully focused on a spot on the wall over Mulder’s shoulder. She was very clearly doing her best to control things with her breathing, given the way she inhaled and exhaled with purpose, and Mulder didn’t say or do anything to break her concentration. 

“It’s OK,” she said after a moment. “I’m fine.” 

“You can go, if you need to,” Mulder said softly. 

Scully closed her eyes and shook her head. 

“It doesn’t matter if I go or I stay,” she said. “Dinner was gone about two hours ago when—the alien woke up. Now there’s nothing. I just—gag. The sensation is there, but…”

“There’s nothing in your stomach,” Mulder supplied. Scully shook her head. Then, she got a slightly horrified look on her face as her cheeks ran bright red again. They must have burned hot because she raised her hands and touched them. 

“Oh—Mulder, I’m sorry,” she said. She almost looked like she would cry. In fact, with each passing millisecond, she looked closer and closer to tears. Mulder practically lurched forward and sat up to pull her to him. She didn’t fight him. She came and let him hold her against him. “I meant for this to be sexy, and romantic, and…”

Mulder laughed to himself. He shushed her, rubbing his hands over her, as he held her close to him. She was wearing a nightgown—a soft cotton nightgown. Mulder closed his eyes, nuzzling against her. She smelled wonderful. She smelled like Scully. Like home. And God, she felt good in his arms. His arms never felt as good as they did when they were wrapped around her. 

He pushed her away enough to use his thumbs to wipe both her cheeks at the same time. 

“You’re beautiful,” he offered. Her frown deepened and a few more clear drops ran from her eyes. He wiped those away with his thumbs and laughed to himself. He couldn’t help but smile at her. “You are—you don’t have to cry about it, Scully.”

“This was supposed to be sexy,” Scully said.

“With someone as sexy as you, everything’s sexy,” Mulder offered. 

“It was supposed to be romantic, Mulder.” 

“For a man, there’s nothing more romantic in the world, Scully, than the woman you love having your baby,” Mulder said.

“I told you I was feeling sick, and I nearly got sick.”

“All part of the process,” Mulder said. “Like you said, it’s my baby that’s doing it to you. And I’m sorry that you don’t feel well, Scully. I am—but I’m still going to think you’re incredible for just…having my baby.” 

“I wanted to—take care of you,” Scully said, clearly starting to calm. Mulder could feel her relaxing where her body made contact with his. 

“You always take care of me,” Mulder assured her. “You take better care of me than anyone ever has.” 

“I wanted to wake you up with a blow job,” Scully said. “Isn’t that what every man wants?” 

Mulder laughed to himself.

“Hey—you did wake me up with a blow job,” he offered. He smirked at her. She needed the comfort. She needed the teasing. Right now, she needed all of it, and Mulder wanted her to have everything she needed, because it was true—she took care of him. She always took care of him. Mulder had never loved like he loved Scully, and he’d never been loved in the way that she loved him. He would give her any and everything she could possibly ever need if it was in his power to give it. “That was a wonderful way to wake up, Scully. And there’s nothing hotter than seeing your tongue running over me like that…” Mulder laughed to himself when his own words made him shiver. “See? Just remembering it got me hard again.” 

Scully glanced toward his dick, again. She smiled to herself. She curled her hand around it and stroked him, gently. Mulder groaned at her. 

“I could try again,” she offered.

Mulder reached and caught her wrist, stopping her from even trying to pleasure him that way. She looked at him, brow furrowed. That was all the question that he needed.

“If you’re feeling up to it,” he said, “I’d really rather fuck you, Scully. I haven’t been inside you in a long time—what feels like forever. I’d like to be back there again.” 

The pink returned to her cheeks, this time in a different way, and Mulder felt the blood run to his dick, making it even more painfully hard than it had been before. 

“You should be taking it easy, Mulder, really…” Scully said, her voice almost choked as she protested. It was clear that she didn’t want to say it. Her need to take care of him—to protect him—forced her into it.

Mulder smiled at her. 

“If you’re feeling up to it,” Mulder said, “maybe you could help me out? I could take it easy?” 

Scully licked her lips, clearly understanding what he wanted. 

“I think I could do that,” she offered. 

“If it’s too much movement,” Mulder said, not finishing. 

“I’ve got your permission,” Scully said with a smile. She leaned and kissed him. She meant the kiss, and Mulder meant his return of it. “I’ve always got your permission to do what I need to do.” 

“Always,” Mulder confirmed. “What’s best for you—and best for the alien? That’s always going to be what’s best for me, too, Scully.” 

Scully kissed him again and, as she kissed him, Mulder slipped his hand down between her legs. She was wearing a nightgown, but she’d taken off her panties. She’d anticipated that the blow job might very well go somewhere else entirely. She was already wet, but when Mulder stroked her with his fingers, she flooded a little more. He continued his stroking, his fingers finding her sensitive nub and working it like he knew she liked—just as hard and fast as she usually requested. For just a moment, she struggled with her desire. First, she latched onto him, tightening her thighs until he couldn’t continue his movement. Realizing that, by trying to satisfy her hunger, she’d cut off her supply, she spread her legs again and ground into his hand, riding his fingers.

The other hand held the back of her head, pulling her toward him to keep her from breaking the kisses for more than air.

“Fuck, Scully…” He muttered in between kisses.

“That’s what I want you to do,” Scully teased, practically panting out the words. 

Mulder wasn’t actually sure if he pulled his hand back or she pulled free of him. A moment later, she was hovering over him. She lined them up and slid herself down onto him, seating herself entirely and straddling him. Her eyes closed and her face assumed the expression that fell somewhere between pain and pleasure. She needed a second to adjust, and Mulder allowed her that as he rested his hands on her hips. 

“Take your gown off,” he said. 

“What?” 

“Your breasts. I want to see them,” Mulder said, as Scully rocked her hips, beginning the grinding that was her search for release. Mulder’s breath caught in his throat over the rush of pleasure. Without stopping the grinding, Scully rid herself of the gown. Mulder reached his hand up, rubbing it over her breast. His fingers toyed with her perfect nipple—already erect.

She groaned at him and put her hands on his chest, seeking the support that she needed to lift herself so that she could repeatedly slide herself up and down his length.

Mulder lost all track of time as Scully rode him, sometimes looking at him, sometimes with her eyes closed, and sometimes with her head thrown back in pleasure. When he was near his end, he returned to rubbing her, helping her find what she needed, and he was rewarded when her muscles locked down tightly enough around him, pulsing, that he thought his brain might actually explode if the woman atop him wouldn’t tell him that such a thing was medically impossible. 

Despite her demands that he relax and let her do all the work, Mulder had been unable to stop himself, at the end, from driving his hips up into her as she let him work out what he needed to find his own release, and to milk every last bit of pleasure out of their physical connection, as he could.

Then, sweaty from their exertions, Scully collapsed on Mulder, sucking in breath and getting control of her senses, once more, before she rolled next to him and practically fitted herself perfectly in the crook of his arm. 

“I love you,” Mulder said, his own breath ragged.

“I love you,” Scully echoed. “We love you.” She sat up and smiled at him. She kissed the corner of his mouth before he could respond. “I do—and the alien does.” 

Mulder smiled to himself. He pulled her closer and she came willingly, this time kissing him on the lips and letting him choose when to release her.

“You take good care of me,” he assured her. 

“You take care of me, too,” she echoed. “Us.” 

“You still feel sick?” Mulder asked.

“Very much so,” Scully said. “There’s very little that I would like more than to be sick right now, but I didn’t want to ruin the mood.” 

Mulder laughed to himself at the absolute calmness with which she delivered the message, and Scully laughed to herself in response. 

“Want to go to the bathroom?” Mulder asked.

“No,” Scully said. “I want to—lie right here and take advantage of the oxytocin.” 

Mulder hummed at her. He snuggled her against him, and she rested next to him. She sighed, settling in. 

“If it makes you feel better,” Mulder offered, “we can work you up another batch of it in about—twenty minutes.” 

“Ever the caretaker,” Scully teased, patting his chest. He caught her hand and brought it up to kiss her delicate fingers.

“Only the best for you, Scully.” 

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AN: I hope you enjoyed. I'll probably be continuing this "series" with another little story, if anyone's interested. 

Please let me know what you think!


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